RETRO REVIEW:
BLOOD
SPORT.
YEAR:
1988.
STARRING: Jean-Claude Van Damme,
Donald Gibb, Forest Whitaker, Bolo
Yeung.
RATED: R; For Violence, Nudity,
Mullets.
It is
the year of our lord, 1988. A truly glorious time. A
time where sunglasses were the size of solar panels and
t-shirts changed magical colors! A time where all the best
parties were in the back, whilst business was
always on top. A time where you could wear a
muscle shirt (despite having no muscles), a fanny pack and the
biggest fucking pair of zebra-striped Zubaz pants
you've ever seen in your life, and still not get
punched right in the face for being a complete douchebag.
It was truly a great time to look ridiculous. No one
would dare tell US
that
our red faux-leather jackets with 60 zippered pockets were not as
tremendously cool as we thought they were-- because we were
clueless. I mean, we wore pink shirts with Alligators over
the big floppy pockets for fuck sakes. What did we
really know? Not much, it turns out. For we were
sheltered from the harsh realities
that were yet to come. Those
harsh realities? Well, we all looked like shit
for one. That was a given. And despite
President Reagan's bold claims on economic reform, the
only thing to "trickle down" into my
stylin' acid-wash-laden pockets were big balls of
lint. However, there were other revelations to come,
with ramifications so deep that they were like a
really witty parable of something being really
deep that I can't think of. And they shook my
generation to its very neon-jammer wearing cores. It was a
scene, man.
For
example; as it turns out--get
this-- Milli Vanilli--the same two guys who couldn't
speak a lick of English without sounding
like Arnold Schwarzenegger with severe mental
retardation--yet, could sing in flawless melodic English
accents-- were actually FRAUDS and sang
NOTHING. It's true. And despite their
unintelligible thick German cries, on this day, the
Rain could NOT be Blamed this time. It was
shocking. Almost as shocking as discovering that milky-white rap-meister, Vanilla Ice
actually had no discernable talent whatsoever. SAY IT AIN'T
SO. It was a crushing blow surely for those of us
fledgling mullet-heads convinced that he was in fact the "real
deal"... and dreamt of a day in which people would utter the
name "Ice" with the same clout, reverence
and respect as "Sinatra", "Elvis" and "Maestro Fresh
Wes". Not to be.
Heartbreak was all
around us, friends. Heroes were falling, and not even
their omnipresent parachute pants could save them. As the 90's
began, it was now a world of mistrust and cynicism. A
world where once proud sex symbols like George
Michael were soliciting blowjobs at roadside
homosexual rest-stops, as people questioned
just how a man with a feathered 'do, eye make-up and
billowing chest hair could actually turn out to be GAY. You
know, before they went back to eating their
pureed food for their own safety. It was truly the end
of the innocence. The last can of Tab was
opened like the proverbial Pandora's Box and nothing but
anguish and women's blouses with shoulder pads so
huge they'd even bowl over Refrigerator Perry
spilled out. A new decade was indeed at hand. The party
in the back was indeed cut short. Given way to a new age
of yellow peroxide-bleached hair, ridiculous doctor
scrubs pants and a completely jaded disposition. Who
could have possibly seen this all coming, I asked?
Everyone on Earth except me?
Perhaps.
However, besides
frauds, phonies, secret fags, and high fashion that is
only kept alive today by clueless Pro Wrestlers, the
1980's were at least a proud a staple of
one more phenomenon that has yet to see a full resurgence:
THE ACTION MOVIE. Or more importantly, the
Martial Arts Action Movie. And leading the
charge in 1988 was Jean-Claude Van Damme. The man who
singlehandedly taught a world of movie goers that in order to
truly master your craft, you needed only two things:
the ability to nonsensically do the splits and elevate
your testicles perpendicular to the ground; and an
adversary willing to stand completely still in slow motion
whilst you deliver a completely telegraphed spinning kick.
That's it. It's really that easy. Trust me.
This finally takes us to
perhaps Van Damme's most well known film:
BLOODSPORT. The alleged true story of Frank
Dux; the first westerner to win the "Kumite" mixed-martial
arts tournament. An honor that got
you...something? I don't know. They
built this whole fucking thing up, and then all Van Damme
got was a lousy sword. Ya, that was definitely worth the
in-tournament deaths and broken necks. Shoot for the stars,
guys.
Now,
Bloodsport is remembered as a classic...by me...and
only me; and well, upon 2nd viewing 20 years later, I'm
starting to think my mother secretly embedded my breakfast
cereal with chips of lead paint. I don't know what I was
thinking. Not much, if this haircut
is any indication.
Now, as for the
movie itself. It's simple. Bloodsport is just your
basic grown man with a child's haircut who speaks with a
thick Belgian accent despite living 95% of his life in
America, honoring his Shidoshi's dead son by pretending to be
Japanese and learning to do the splits and serve tea
blindfolded, and then using his blind butler skills
to win a tournament by kicking a giant Chinese
dude with a mullet in slow motion for apparently no
reward whatsoever. You know, that same old story.
Now, I could give
you the straight movie blow-by-blow, but holy shit that'd
be tedious. It'd read like "then Dux kicked this guy with
black pants. Then he kicked this Arab guy named Paco
(His Iraqi cousins "Jorge" and "Ricardo" must
have not been available). Then he kicked a fat Japanese
guy with a porn mustache. Then he kicked a bunch of
other guys! Then he got blinded by a guy. Then he kicked
that guy, too. And then he went home." So, ya, I
think I'll just give you the quick & dirty
version.
The story starts
off with young Frank Dux and friends breaking into a Japanese
house. (and there's definitely a lot of
bamboo/paper houses in southern California! Oh
wait.). The trio grab a sword from a stand, then they flee,
leaving Dux holding the sword and the proverbial bag. This
brings in the owner of the house, Master Tanaka and his
young son, who proceeds to kick the shit out of Dux
despite his claims of innocence and not even trying to run or
fight. Ya, lot of honor young Tanaka has there.
Eventually, Tanaka agrees to train Dux, but basically uses him
as a punching bag for own son. That is, until Dux saves
young Tanaka from bullies at school. Which of course draws the
question, how could Dux gets his ass kicked so severely by
this diminutive Oriental boy every day, then suddenly have the
moxy to run off the bullies that are beating on the same kid
who so regularly hands him his own ass? Ya.
Anyway, we fast forward to Dux's adulthood where he
visits Master Tanaka. It turns out Tanaka's son is dead. They
don't say how. I hope it's AIDS. I don't even know
why. This turn of events saddens Master Tanaka, as his
hope to force his small son to compete in a death tournament
for no monetary reward has now been quashed. OR HAS
IT. Because, Dux volunteers to take his place! Tanaka
is immediately disgusted, spewing the same visceral anger that
the Korean grocery clerk does in your local Bodega when you
try and read the magazines in the display. "You're not even
Japanese!", Tanaka cries, to which Van
Damme answers "It's Ok; I can't act for shit either, but that
didn't stop people from casting me for 20 years! It'll all
work out! Trust me!". I might be paraphrasing here. Soon,
Tanaka warms to the idea, after Dux says he wants to finish
his training to "honor him". But I really think
it's so he can bum some of Tanaka's silk pajamas. I
know it'd be that way for me. I don't think I've seen
this Tanaka in one pair of slacks this whole movie. What a
swanky motherfucker. He's like a really angry Japanese
Hugh Hefner. Only he ties your legs to trees and
beats you with sticks, instead being surrounded by
gorgeous nude women.
Tanaka then begins Dux's
training, which, as alluded to, sees him be tied to two trees,
leg first and stretched; so, in the event one of his opponents
in the tournament have some rope and two palm trees, DUX WILL
SO BE READY FOR THAT SHIT IT'LL NOT EVEN BE FUNNY. Bring it
on, motherfuckers. Also, it has to be said,
Tanaka's training methods, like Mister Miyagi in Karate
Kid, are somewhat suspect. As they too involve THANKLESS
CHORES with the thought that by doing these meandering jobs,
somehow this'll teach you a level of martial arts
mastery no kind of physical contact EVER could. In this
case, unlike Miyagi with car waxing and house
painting, Tanaka has Dux serving he and his wife
breakfast blindfolded. I'm really starting to think these old
Japanese guys have a scam going where they hornswaggle young people into free manual labor
in exchange for "secret training". It's just like every
other old person out there, only way more clever.
"After you're done waxing my car, and thus learning
Karate, cut the grass...and then you'll know Kung-Fu!".
Ya.
Anyway, years have
passed, and Dux, now enlisted in the military, wants to go on
leave to compete in the Kumite tournament. The brass in charge
obviously refuse. Perhaps if he hadn't made it so clear
that he was competing in a SECRET ILLEGAL DEATH
TOURNAMENT, they may have warmed up to the idea. I guess "I'm
going to go visit my sister in Wyoming" never crossed his
mind. So, needless to say, Dux has to go AWOL, and sneaks out
the shower-room window, easily escaping the ONE guard on the
base, and fleeing the entire place without being seen. Note to
Terrorists. If you're looking to plan an assault, you might
want to try THIS base. If they have their entire crack
security unable to stop one naked Belgian dude running for the
hills, I don't think they're going to be none the wiser
to your plots. Call it a hunch.
Anyway, in the
interim, the military sends two men to reclaim Dux. One of
which is Academy Award winner Forest Whitaker and his lazy
eye. He's tried to get it to show better ambition, but some
eyes just want to always take the easy way out. What can I
say.
We are
now in Hong Kong, and Dux meets Ray Jackson, (Ogre
from the Revenge of the Nerds movie) on a bus to the Kumite.
I'd bring up the incredible
unlikely odds that the only two Americans in the
competition happened to be on the same bus going to the
same tournament at the same exact time, but that'd
just be absurd. Almost as absurd as how high Jean-Claude
wears his pants here. Seriously, the guy must buckle his belt
over his nipples. Insanity. My guess is that by wearing his
pants so high, he lessens the chance of getting hit below
the belt in the tournament, because come on, a shot to
the chest won't hurt that much.
And speaking of wearing pants extraordinarily high, whilst in
the hotel with Jackson, he runs into a female reporter in
search of info on the secret tournament--Janice Kent, whom
like him, apparently shares a love of pants to armpit levels.
They could make some beautiful babies one day. Who'll then
suffocate because they're diapered up to their faces. Dux,
then interrupts another fighter named Hossein, who is
trying to pick up Janice. Hossein, for the record, is sporting
perhaps the most unfortunate ears I think I've ever seen.
Think that alien that rides
shotgun
with
Lando Calrissian in Jedi. Dux's big solution here is to play
a game of chance to see who'll get to potentially violate
this sweet blue-eyed mid-western woman. Well, that sure beats the shit out
of Paper, Rock, Scissors. Dux bets Hossein that he can grab a
coin out of his hand before he closes his fist, and Hossein
agrees--and loses. Then he just bows out graciously? Holy
shit, apparently the prospect of Van Damme's vaudevillian
magic trick was just too much for this poor bastard. Imagine
the sheer damage he could do with actual
bills! Ahem.
That
said, to the victor goes the spoils. Dux and
Janice got out to dinner where she tries to coax him into
letting her into watch the Kumite. "I heard it's like
human cockfighting!", she says, and Dux responds "no, we
actually wear pants". Ok, he didn't say that, but he should
have. He then turns down her request to attend the event,
citing that the event is for the fighters not the people who
read newspapers. But what if the fighters read newspapers, I
ask, looking for a high five that never comes because I'm
alone. So very, very alone. Dux however offers her a
chance to attend his special CUMite, and despite her objection to his
chauvinistic contest earlier, she does the lady-like
thing here and puts out on the first date! Who knew
that your idiot grandfather's coin tricks could potentially
lead to pussy. All I need to do now is incorporate his
tales of walking 3000 miles to school bare-foot in
snow and she'll probably give the green-light on
anal.
Oh, and speaking of the
sex, when the film began, I noticed the disclaimer
warning "SOME SCENES MAY CONTAIN NUDITY" (May contain?! I need
to know for sure!), and once she came into the film I thought
"all right, all right, all right, I don't think I'd be against
her taking off her clothes as the kids are wont to say these
days"...but oh my god, THE HORRORS. There was nudity here,
sure, but not a flash of female skin was exposed. Instead, we
were subjected to the ever-so-brief shot of Van Damme snapping
a pair of bikini briefs over his hairless cornhole. If you had
an erection before in preparation for Janice's big scene, it's
since relocated to your abdomen now. If it wasn't for my
glorious giant balls, I'd look just like a Ken
doll.
TOURNAMENT TIME~! Held in a secret
Hong Kong slum...a slum that happens to have a fully lit arena
inside with giant scoreboards and electricity and hundreds of
chairs. I didn't know that's how slums work. Thank god they've
managed to keep this on the down-low. No one in living in
extreme poverty would ever
notice 10 trucks rolling in and
unloading millions of dollars worth of equipment and a
giant 75 foot canvas half-pipe. Not a chance.
Dux and Jackson
arrive and are introduced to their sponsor Mr. Lin
and officially sign up...but there's some problems with
Dux's clan (Tanaka). Yet, surprisingly they have no problem
signing up the big redneck Biker, Jackson, despite him
having no clan affiliation. Well, besides maybe Ku Klux. Dux
then convinces them to allow him to show the Tanaka
trademark "death touch" on a pile of bricks to prove his
worth. Man. It's a good thing they had this completely random
pile of bricks just stacked there, or maybe Dux would have
been turned away! Lucky him! The referee demands he break the
bottom brick, which he does without shattering any of the top
ones, PHYSICS BE DAMNED. Now, just watch, the guy, despite
having this ability, will likely only use it
once in the whole tournament, and instead
expend needless energy fighting traditionally. It's kind of
like how The Undertaker can summon lightning at will, but
instead always just wrestles instead of incinerating people.
Dear god.
Oh, I'd be remiss
if I didn't mention this was the first time we see the film's
antagonist Chong-Li, played by Bolo Yeung. As it turns out,
Bolo was actually FIFTY here. I had no idea Bolo Yeung was so
Bolo Old. HOLY SHIT, PUNS. Chong-Li is impressed by Dux's
brick shattering, but utters his first of three pieces of
dialogue in the film : "Very good. But bricks not hit back!".
I'd have hit him with a brick just to confuse the situation
and perhaps make him reconsider his stance. But hey,
that's just me.
The tournament has
started~! The rules are as follows: a winner is determined by
knockout, submission, throwing a man from the
platform, and in the case of a tie, a spirited
inner-city dance off. But the things is...you won't know
what kind of music you'll be straight steppin' to. Oh
shit, I think I changed the channel by accident. Umm,
just the first three.
A myriad of
fighters then go at it, with only several obviously being
meant to stand out. One of which is this really annoying
hunched-over bobbing-and-weaving African bushman. I love
how this guy had the wear-with-all to obviously charter a
plane from Buttfuck Africa, but can't walk upright. Good
times.
We
then learn that Chong-Li holds the fastest knock out
record, so of course Dux has to break it. And Dux's first
opponent? HOSSEIN, who is still reeling from the slight of
hand the previous night. Hossein is as adept at fighting as he
is, umm, closing his hand, and gets knocked the fuck out
in under 10 seconds. NEW WORLD RECORD. Chong-Li is not
pleased. And later he takes his rage out on his opponent,
killing him. I'm guessing his Dojo doesn't have a
great new customer turn-over. Call me crazy. Jackson then gets
Chong-Li's dander up further by calling him out after
destroying his opponent with a BRAIN CHOP~!
"I'm coming for you man! Ya, you!", says
Jackson. Chong's reaction is initially hilarious, reading
like the school fat girl being asked to dance by the cutest
boy in her class, then getting spurned. His face
immediately turns to unadulterated festering hate. I love this
man, his bitchin' mullet/headband combo, and his impossibly
disturbing pectoral muscles.
With the first day
wrapped up, we see the MP's coming for Dux, who give chase
through Hong Kong. The whole thing views like a Mentos
commercial:
During day
two, we see more fights in a quick musical sequence. I'd go
into it more, but holy shit this tune is catchy. KUMITE. KUMITE.
KUMITE....
Anyway, we
continue and, wait, holy shit, is that Grace Jones? Who
let this bitch in the tournament? The tournament is in
full swing, with Dux soundly defeating several fighters. Oh,
and annoying African Bushman gets destroyed by the angry
mustachioed Sumo. Makes sense. I mean, really. If all native
Africans were this bad ass, there'd never have been
slavery! AMIRITE. We'd all be bringing them water on our heads
over there right now!
From
there, some more random dudes advance, and Jackson
gets maimed by Chong-Li, who gets handled by Ogre early,
but he doesn't finish. Chong then takes the big
man's knee out and curb stomps him. "YOU. ARE. NEXT." This upsets Janice, who has since snuck into the
tournament as an escort. Man, for a woman who so desperately
wanted to get into this fucking thing, she sure gets
revolted easily. What did she think Roosters did again in
Cockfights? Anyway, she's so disturbed, she later tries
to orchestrate a plan with the MP's to capture Dux and send
him back to the U.S., so he doesn't get hurt. But in true
Three Stooges fashion, the duo accidentally taser the Hong
Kong cops that attempt to assist them, and Dux beats the fuck
out of them with his NINJA DUFFLEBAG OF DEATH. Seriously, the
guy's fucking dirty laundry just took out about 8
people. Holy shit, this whole movie isn't exactly a
glowing tribute to our armed forces.
On the bus
ride home, Dux can't stop thinking about Chong-Li, and even
hallucinates he's on the bus with him!
Fucking hilarious. Super villains
tend to lose their mystique when you picture them in everyday
situations. I mean, what's next, Chong-Li
spotted haggling over the price of fruit at the Super
Market?
Chong-Li: "YOU. BOY WITH THE
BANANAS. YOU. ARE. NEXT".
Stock boy: "Umm, you want me to
price these?".
Chong-Li: "Would you?
That'd be fantastic! Err, I mean, YOU WILL. OR I WILL
BREAK YOU".
The final day of
fights~! And the MP's confront Dux, but ultimately let him
compete, under the promise he return with them after it's
over. Seriously though, why is this one motherfucker worth all
this trouble? I mean, the dude wasn't even at war. He was just
chillaxing on the base kicking a speed bag in an unsightly one
piece unitard. What was so pertinent about getting this
guy back ASAP?
Anyway, the
tournament final comes down to, you guessed it, Frank Dux
vs. Chong Li after Dux advanced over Paco the Mexican Arab
and the giant Sumo dude, by death punching him right in
the bag. Mrs. Sumo will not be pleased. The next time she goes
down on him, his dick will turn to powder like an
unraveled Mummy. How dare Dux take away his chance
to father some really big ugly children.
Dux
and Chong-Li make their way for the final fight, but
Chong-Li has some words first: "YOU BREAK MY RECORD, NOW
I BREAK YOU, LIKE I BREAK YOUR FRIEND". Bolo Yeung is
clearly a wordsmith. He speaks to
me. In stilted syllables.
KUMITE! KUMITE! KUMITE! We are
under way! And holy shit, Chong Li is taking off his pants.
That can't be good for business. Maybe Janice will get to see
the kind of cockfighting she wanted after all.
In actuality, Chong is wearing Jackson's
headband around his knee to torment Dux. The biggest
irony of this fight though is, that earlier when Jackson was
fighting Chong-Li, Dux gave the advice "stick to the body!
He's soft there!"...yet, as soon as he fights the guy himself,
he just tries to kick him in the head. Jesus Christ.
Anyway, Dux
dominates from the onset, so Chong-Li takes a page from MR.
FUJI'S PLAYBOOK, and throws salt in Dux's eyes! YES. If it's
good enough for Bret Hart, it's good enough for this joker.
Hilariously enough, Referee Kareem Abdul Jabbar here
apparently didn't see a thing, despite the cloud of white
residue, Dux stumbling around like Frankenstein, rubbing his
eyes and throwing kicks to thin air. The wrestling tie-in is
now complete.
Chong-Li then goes
to work--and for only 1/8th what an American makes! budumcha--
and Dux is down...long enough to have a complete flashback
sequence! Good thing Chong-Li has the courtesy to let him
toggle through 20 years of random memories! That's
nice. Dux digs deep, and remembers his time blindfolded
and how Master Tanaka taught him to grab fish right out of the
pond with his BARE HANDS. Sure, that doesn't help
him fight for shit, but if there ever comes a time when
he and Chong are trapped on a desert island and really hungry,
guess who's eating and who isn't! I'm telling you.
At this point, Dux
is yelling really loud and contorting all his muscles. If I
didn't know any better, I'd think he was squat-shitting right
on the podium. I mean, why not? They already alluded to Chong
being soft in the stomach. Maybe he'll throw up and then
slip on the vomit and knock himself out, and Ray Charles
here will get his fucking sword and call it a night
already. But alas, as in all movies of this ilk, you are
ALWAYS way more dangerous when you're blinded, so Dux
blocks Chong's finishing blow and goes back on offense. I'll
never look at and completely ignore the blind the
same way again. Lest I find that he was trained by a
sadistic Master who ties him to palm trees and makes him serve
drinks thus making him unbeatable. Or something.
Dux is now a house of fire, and
unloads on Chong, but not before demonstrating some pretty
sweet Rockette moves! Holy shit! He then leaps into the air,
and delivers a slow motion kick of death. I love how no one in
Van Damme movies ever even tries to duck these things. "Ya,
here comes the kick. I guess I could move. Or I could
just stand here still for 10 seconds and take it full
force! Ya, I like that. BLARRRGGHHHHH". Dux then makes
Chong-Li submit to win the tournament... and like nothing
else. Seriously, the guy should have just bought a sword in a
pawn shop and brought it to his dying Shidoshi. How'd he have
ever known the difference? "Ya, this is to honor you or
something. Just let me peel this price tag off, and there we
go, perfect!".
Dux &
Janice are then seen at Jackson's bed side, who miraculously
is not even injured and is now drinking beer... in a
hospital. Maybe they let you wash down Medical Marijuana with
Medical Colt 45 now. I'm not up on current Medicine, I
guess. They then all share a moment, and Dux gives
Jackson back his headband and says "next time keep your
clothes on". If only the director had the guts to utter this
same advice earlier. Jackson
then jokes that next time Dux may have to face
him. Note to Jackson: If he looks constipated, he's
not! Stay away! It can only end badly for you. Oh,
and maybe duck when he floats suspended in the air for like fifteen
straight seconds. Jackson then hugs Dux and say "any time, anywhere,
you need me, I'm there". Dux then says "Ya, I'm actually
moving next week, and I could really use a hand!", but
when he turns around Jackson is gone, seen from a
distance getting into a running car never to be seen
again. There's a chance I made this part
up.
Anyway, the film
then ends with the MP's waiting for Dux at the airport, but
hey now, he's already on the plane! "What's taking you guys so
long!", he says. Oh that Dux. Do the laughs ever
start.
The
End.
CREDITS~! Did you know Frank
Dux has a lot of records~! Fastest knock out! Fastest submission! Fastest
fuck on a first date ever. He's a man to be
admired. And a man who has apparently invented his very own form of
NINJITSU: DUX RYU NINJITSU. Which as far as I'm
concerned better involve propelling balls of
raw energy at giant electricity-laden green mutants. That 2nd name
holds some standards that HAVE to be lived
up to, damn it. But hey, good
luck with all that "ninjitsu". There's a serious calling for *those guys* in
the 21st century. I guess if I see a masked dude drop from the
trees and deliver a spin-kick in bullet time, I'll know who's
behind it. Live and learn.
FINAL
THOUGHTS: What did we learn today kids?
Chong-Li's feelings get hurt really easily. Perhaps if Jackson
had've extended the olive branch of friendship, instead of
mocking the man, maybe he'd be able to eat something other
than baby food for the next year. Plus, if you want to go on
Military leave to compete in a secret tournament where you
could potentially die, maybe, just maybe, LIE
to your Commanding Officer. Thanksgiving with the Folks > I
WANT TO HONOR MY SHIDOSHI~!. Also, if you're the Military
Police, and you've fallen into the Ocean, been tasered,
kicked, tackled, and injured, maybe just let the fucking guy
go. You can always find another man willing to stand
around doing nothing of any military value at the base.
And finally, it's perfectly
normal to unwind and relax after a hard day at
the office by doing the splits for no reason on a
building roof-top. Some people have a coffee and read a
newspaper. Some like to potentially plummet to their
deaths spread-eagled. I don't throw
stones.
That all
said, this movie is one of the most absurd things I've ever
seen, bar none. But that's why I love it. TWO BRICK-BUSTING
PALM-THRUSTS OF DEATH UP~!
Sean Carless is a man of
many hats. And he wears those hats to cover an ever-increasing
bald spot. Sean's various scribblings have been read at Live
Audio Wrestling, 411 Mania, Wrestlecrap, Honky Tonk
Man.com, The Toronto Star.com, and Lethal Wrestling. He has
also cured AIDS.
